


the way new leaves grow

by AnythingAtAll



Series: The Aussie AU [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - AFL, Alternate Universe - Australia, Cats, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7056454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnythingAtAll/pseuds/AnythingAtAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kent Parson doesn’t like going out in public. Certain areas of Melbourne, and anywhere outside of Australia, he can get away virtually unrecognised, but most of the time something as simple as going down to the seven eleven on the corner if he’s craving a golden gaytime is out of the question. He’s just so recognisable.<br/>Nothing is as bad though, as going to the airport.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the way new leaves grow

**Author's Note:**

> So this is part of the Aussie AU... which I wasn't expecting to write fic for let alone patater dear lord.  
> You can find out more about the AU on my tumblr @unchillnursey (in 'the aussie au' tag) but basically all you need to know for this is that Kent is a famous AFL player living in Melbourne.  
> Also the title is from a quote by Amit Ray because I can't name things.

Kent Parson doesn’t like going out in public. Certain areas of Melbourne, and anywhere outside of Australia, he can get away virtually unrecognised, but most of the time something as simple as going down to the seven eleven on the corner if he’s craving a golden gaytime is out of the question. He’s just _so_ recognisable. His sister likes to tell him it’s his pretty face, and if this were ten years ago he would give her a Chinese burn in retaliation but all he can do now is scowl over their skype connection.

Nothing is as bad though, as going to the airport. People seem to notice everything in those large, shining halls. Kent has to spend a lot of time in airports, for away games and events and even the occasional visit to his family in Perth. He usually doesn’t bother trying to hide. The embarrassment at having someone notice you while dressed like Captain America attempting to go undercover isn’t really worth it, but he’s had a shitty week. The schmoozing and the humid Sydney air had been getting to him. He still has the edges of a hangover buzzing at his temples, he should have learnt by now that champagne doesn’t agree with him. Better to stick with tequila and feel like you deserve the pounding headache in the morning.

So he’s wearing a red beanie pulled over his distinctive blonde hair, a cowlick or two peeking out, and over-large shades. Usually this wouldn’t be enough to get him out of anything but it’s eight in the morning on a Sunday and no one is awake enough to bother taking a second look.

Kent is clutching a coffee and scowling at his phone. He doesn’t have anything on for the next two days but an old hook up texted him last night. He weighs it up and thinks forty-eight hours vegging out in his king bed with Kitt Purrson is a much brighter prospect than anything else.

That’s when he feels himself crash headlong into a wall. Or he thinks it’s a wall. He bounces right off, coffee slipping from his grip and falling to the floor, letting out a loud _fuck_ before he feels a huge hand come up and steady him.

Kent looks up (and up) and realises it wasn’t a wall, just a very tall man. A very tall, very built man, whose grip can practically encircle Kent’s _bicep_ holy shit.

“Am so sorry!” Kent is still so thrown by this big guy it takes him a couple of seconds to realise he’s spoken, and that he has an incredibly strong and incredibly hot accent.

“Shit, my coffee,” Kent looks down at the mess on the floor and sighs. He’s not awake enough to be dealing with tall, weirdly attractive men with booming voices and earnest gazes, let alone without caffeine.

“I buy you new coffee, yes?” The guy is still holding on to Kent’s arm, brown eyes wide in apology. “I have some Australian dollars! Can pay for breakfast!”

The way he mangles the word _Australian_ is incredibly endearing, but the way this guy clearly has no idea who he’s run into is even more so. Kent could afford to buy himself as much coffee as he wants, he’s already written off the brew slowly cooling on the floor of the airport.

“Sure,” he grins widely and slips his sunglasses off. The guy looks like a farmer out of a storybook; his movements too big for even the wide space of the airport and that floppy hair looking like he could definitely use a stylist. “What’s your name?”

“I am Alexei,” Alexei finally lets go of his arm and starts walking over to the nearest coffee shop.

“Kent,” no point in a false name here, he thinks, falling into step beside Alexei. “Where are you from?”

“Obvious, huh?” Alexei is grinning wide. “I am coming from Russia, sorry my English not so good.”

“It's a difficult language,” Kent hums. When they get to the front of the – very short – line, Alexei looks immediately overwhelmed by the options.

“Can we get two vanilla lattes, thanks?” Kent turns to Alexei. “Does that sound good?”

“I have what you have,” Alexei shrugs with his whole body. “And I pay.”

Kent helps Alexei a little with the cash, but Australian money is notoriously simple and Alexei already seems to have trained himself to remember which note is which colour.

“In Russia we have colour notes, but not so bright!” Alexei gushes as he passes over a blue ten. “In Canada they have similar. America is confusing, all green. I cannot tell how much I am paying!”

Kent grins. He’s never been to Canada or Russia, but American money has always baffled him. Recognising the faces of old dead dudes is not an effective monetary system.

They walk out with their drinks and Alexei makes an appreciative sound when he takes a sip. Kent feels stupidly proud that he chose something decent.

“Where you fly from?”

“Sydney,” Kent says. “Only an hour and a half, still not fun at seven in the morning.”

“Is long way from Moscow,” Alexei says. “Flight to Bangkok and then here. I can sleep on plane, even with woman next to me on first flight complaining the whole way.”

“What was she complaining about?”

“Everything,” Alexei rolls his eyes. “Man snoring, baby crying, terrible food. Food was terrible, but is rude to complain. Is airplane, food is always terrible.”

“Amen to that.”

Kent is about to step out into the bright Melbourne morning when he hears Alexei gasp and suddenly the warmth beside him dissipates. He turns and sees the giant Russian running into a souvenir shop. _Jesus Christ._

“Kent, look!” Kent hurries over before he can make a scene. “You are really having kangaroos here? I have seen some in zoo, they are very funny.”

“Yeah, they’re everywhere in the country,” Kent watches, amused, as Alexei hefts a huge stuffed kangaroo, equipped with red boxing gloves of course, off a shelf. “You’re not going to buy that are you?”

“You do not like?” Alexei pouts. “His face, it is so sweet!”

“I’ve seen enough kangaroos to last me a lifetime, thanks.”

Alexei flips the price tag, dangling from the toy’s ear, and blanches. He puts it back on the shelf carefully.

“Maybe you are right,” he shrugs. “Is a bit big.”

Kent watches Alexei peruse the smaller, less exciting items. He’s growing increasingly alarmed at how affected he is by the way those broad shoulders droop and the smile vanishes. This is the stupidest situation he’s ever been in.

“On second thought,” Kent grabs the kangaroo and holds it to his chest. “I do quite like it, maybe it can be a welcome to Australia present for you.”

Alexei’s face breaks out into a breathtaking smile. Kent feels like all the air has been forced from his lungs. _Get a hold of yourself_ , he thinks. _Just because he’s nice and cute and so tall he could probably break you in half with no effort… well shit._

“Really? We are just meeting! This is so kind!”

“Sure,” Kent dumps the kangaroo into Alexei’s arms and stuffs his sunglasses back on with less grace than he would like. He knows they won’t hide his flush, but maybe he can keep the emotion in his eyes to himself. “On one condition.”

Alexei hums in inquiry, still beaming.

“If you’re not busy, do you want to hang out? I could show you the city.”

Kent thinks about his bed at home, thinks about Kitt Purrson and the marathon of RuPaul’s Drag Race waiting for him there. He looks at Alexei and there’s no question what he wants to be doing.

He tries to temper his smile when Alexei rushes to agree, but he isn’t very successful.

* * *

Alexei explains that he has accommodation organised at a hostel. Kent _almost_ tells him to come stay at his place, but he’s not a complete idiot. That would be too far. He’s already bought the man a giant soft toy like a smitten teenage boy. Time to tone it down, maybe.

Kent doesn’t like being driven around, and seeing as he can actually afford to, he usually leaves his car in long-term parking. Alexei obviously notices how nice the car is, it’s hard not to, Kent likes his things blatantly expensive, but he doesn’t mention it. He sinks into the plush leather seat and grins, the kangaroo, which he’s christened _Hoppy_ like the eight year old he apparently is, sitting in his lap.

“So where we go?” Alexei fiddles with the recliner settings until he’s practically supine. “You know good places in Melbourne, yes?”

“I’ve lived here a few years,” Kent eases out of the space quickly and starts to make his way out of the labyrinthine parking structure. “I’m from Perth, originally.”

“I have not heard of this,” Alexei says. “What is it like?”

“Warm,” Kent says immediately. “Much warmer than here. Smaller too, but I like the city.”

“Everywhere is so warm here,” Alexei looks eagerly out the windows at the passing traffic but Kent doesn’t miss how his gaze flickers back to his face every now and again. “Will be difficult to get used to.”

“If I had to live somewhere where it snowed I probably wouldn’t survive.”

“Pchah, snow is just fact of life,” Alexei waves an enormous hand. “Not serious until eyelids start to freeze.”

Kent raises an immaculate eyebrow. They’re just getting onto the freeway, and he relaxes a bit as he can jam his foot down on the accelerator, speed limit rising over 100.

Alexei opens his window and Kent can hear his booming laugh over the whipping of the wind. Most people don’t like his driving, he knows he can get a bit reckless and it’s not the smoothest ride, but what’s the point in spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on a car if you’re not going to have a little fun? Kent tugs off his beanie and opens his own window, feeling the wind in his hair.

They don’t talk until the traffic catches up to them and they’re blocked up on the ring road. Kent is perfectly happy listening to Alexei exclaim at the roadside eucalyptus and laugh as they take curves a little too fast.

“You never answer my question,” Alexei grins at Kent as they idle behind a bus. “Where we go?”

Kent hums. He hasn’t really thought that far ahead. It’s far too early in the morning to go out to a pub, and Kent doesn’t want to get recognised. There’s always any of a million cafés, but they’d just gotten coffee and it doesn’t seem special enough. _Chill, Parson,_ he thinks. _Seriously, what the fuck. You just met the guy._ He looks over at Alexei and at Hoppy in his lap. He checks the time; it’s not too early.

“It’s not really the city,” he drawls. “But would you like to see a real kangaroo again?”

He takes the next exit when Alexei agrees, nerves building up in his gut. This is probably pretty weird. This is probably like a date. A really nerdy date. _Fuck._

When he pulls up and parks Alexei looks pleasantly baffled. Kent doesn’t have the heart to tell him to leave the kangaroo in the car so they probably make a weird sight walking up over the bitumen. Kent pulls his beanie back on and jams the sunglasses so far up his nose he almost puts his eye out.

He leaves a twenty in the donation box as they walk into the sanctuary. There’s no one around. No school groups huddling on the benches or small families wandering the paths. The wildlife sanctuary isn’t the most popular spot in the city, but that’s part of what Kent likes about it.

Alexei is thrilled. He seems to want to closely inspect every tree, and hits Kent on the shoulder so hard when he sees a rainbow lorikeet that he almost topples over. There’s not a huge amount of wildlife active at this time of day, mostly birds, but there’s enough to be exciting for Alexei, which is all that really matters.

“Hopefully we’ll be able to find the kangaroos,” Kent says as they pass over some wetlands, Alexei stopping to point at a group of dusky moorhens. “They’re probably lying out in the sun.”

“Is very hot, very early,” Alexei peers at Kent. “Why you wear that hat?”

“I like this hat,” Kent says, tugging it further over his ears. That’s a lie, he’d much rather be in a snap back, but he’s almost instantly recognisable like that. “Why are you in a jumper?”

“Jumper?”

“You know…” Kent gestures at his torso. “Sweater, long sleeves.”

“Was cold on plane,” Alexei shrugs and then motions for Kent to take Hoppy. He tugs off his woollen jumper and reveals a singlet underneath; stretched tight over his broad chest and revealing ridiculously toned arms. Kent is pretty sure he lets out a small squeak, but Alexei is oblivious to his distress. He ties the sweater around his waist like it’s 2005 and takes back his stupid toy, walking on like nothing happened. Kent takes a brief moment to collect himself before rushing to catch up.

They’ve been walking for about another twenty minutes, Kent has finally just about acclimatised to the tank top situation, when they see the roos. They’re sunbathing like the lazy fuckers they are, uninterested faces turned idly towards them.

Alexei is thrilled. He pulls out his phone and snaps endless pictures. The kangaroos don’t react until he gets within a few metres, and then they slowly begin to amble away in that inefficient way that kangaroos do. Alexei laughs and they prick up their ears.

“They are so silly!”

“Yeah, they can’t walk for shit,” Kent grins. “Could outrun a racehorse when they really get going though.”

He looks up at Alexei and the man immediately snaps a photo of him.

“Selfie, Kent!”

Kent grumbles but can’t refuse, not when Alexei slings an arm over his shoulder to do it, putting out roughly the heat of a small sun.

* * *

They spend another hour in the wildlife sanctuary, and then Alexei admits that he’s tired from his long flight, and hungry.

“We could go to mine,” Kent hedges. “There’s a Chinese place which does take away for lunch and I have a spare room, if you don’t want to go to your hostel yet, that is.”

Alexei grins widely and starts expounding on the virtues of Chinese cuisine in comparison to Thai food. He slips into Russian occasionally and it’s both challenging to follow and really interesting. Kent is doomed.

The long drive from Bundoora to Kent’s high-end apartment is spent in amicable conversation, Kent answering questions about the trams and shop signs and people they pass. It seems like no time at all before Kent is turning into his underground parking lot and they’re in the lift up to his place. Alexei doesn’t look surprised when they step out directly into his living room, Kent walking past the view of Flagstaff gardens in search of the take away menu.

“Should have told me you are... how you say… loaded,” Alexei chuckles. “I bought you four dollar coffee.”

“And I bought you a sixty dollar toy,” Kent shoots back.

Alexei hums and makes himself immediately at home, stretching out over Kent’s leather couch. Kent orders quietly in the kitchen and then moves back out, walking past Alexei and into his room.

“There you are!” Kitt is curled up in the centre of his bed. She’s never happy when he leaves, despite the fact that the cleaning staff comes in every day to refill her food and change her litter. She digs her claws into his arm a little harder than usual when he scoops her up. “Food will be here in half an hour,” he calls out as he makes his way back to Alexei.

The Russian grins widely when he sees Kitt, bounding up from the couch to stand right in Kent’s space.

“So cute!” He holds out his hand and Kitt deigns to sniff him out. “What is name?”

“Kitt,” Kent doesn’t really want to explain her full name right now. “She’s not that fond of strangers.”

“She is adorable,” Alexei pets her and seeing his big hand gently scratching under the small cat’s chin is really… really. “Can I hold?”

“If she lets you,” Alexei takes her with such care that Kitt doesn’t even complain, just starts kneading at his chest. Kent can see those little claws poking holes in Alexei’s shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Sweet kitty,” Alexei’s attention is firmly on Kitt but Kent can’t stop watching his face. That omnipresent grin is stretched wide over slightly crooked teeth, big nose offsetting his face. His eyes are a really unremarkable brown colour but they shine in a way that makes them honestly spectacular. His stupid floppy hair falls over his forehead and Kent wants to brush it back.

“Tell me about Russia,” Kent feels himself blush as Alexei meets his eyes again, and he clears his throat before collapsing in a practised sprawl on the couch.

Alexei sits beside him and talks. Kent usually likes to talk about himself. Not everything, but talking about Kitt and his favourite bars and the AFL season is comforting. Still, there’s something nice about letting Alexei’s excited Russian vowels drift over him. He watches as Alexei continues to lavish Kitt with attention and chatters away about his family and Russian winters.

He doesn’t notice that he’s drifted off until he’s shaken awake, Alexei’s warm hand on his shoulder. When he opens his eyes their faces are very close.

“Food is here. Was my story so boring you cannot keep eyes open?” He teases, smirking.

“No, you just have a lovely voice,” Kent doesn’t think before the words leave his mouth and he sees Alexei’s eyebrows rise in surprise. He’s not usually one to blush but fuck is he going against the mould today. He coughs a bit in embarrassment and then levers himself up and past a still shocked Alexei, going to the door to fetch their lunch.

The deliveryman recognises him. He doesn’t ask for an autograph or a selfie, probably not a Collingwood fan, but he smirks when he hands over the bags and counts change.

“Watch out for that MSG, huh Kenny?”

Kent gives him a strained smile and slams the door in his face.

They don’t talk while eating on the couch, the silence awkward. Alexei keeps sending him looks and Kent keeps looking back. Alexei finishes his last dumpling and waits for Kent to polish off his noodles. Kent watches Kitt, who’s tearing up the arm of his authentic Eames chair, in order to avoid that steady gaze.

He cleans up the empty boxes and carries them to the kitchen, dumping them in the bin.

“Jesus Christ,” when he turns around he realises Alexei followed him. The man is huge but he can sure step quietly in his sock feet. “Try not to scare a guy, will you?”

“You like my voice,” Alexei is grinning and Kent scowls.

“That is what I said,” he grumbles. “I mean… aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to go sleep in the spare room?”

“Not so tired now,” Alexei says. Kent realises he’s been slowly backed into the sink. “Also, I would like to go not to the spare room.”

Kent quirks an eyebrow. _Holy shit_. This giant Russian fantasy is coming on to him. Like, actually genuinely into him.

There’s only a moment of hesitation. Kent has to be careful about hooking up with guys, given everything. He’s had dudes sign non-disclosure agreements before blowing them, he’s been blackmailed and broken up with for being closeted. He doesn’t _really_ know this guy, and this guy doesn’t even know what he does. This isn’t the best idea he’s ever had.

But then Alexei opens his mouth, as if to back track, and he just goes for it.

The kiss is immediately hot and open-mouthed, because that’s how Kent does things. His experience allows him to find the perfect angle almost immediately and despite the crick in his neck and the fact that he’s _actually on his tip-toes_ it’s spine-meltingly good. His hands are up in that stupid hair and he takes pride in fucking it up. Alexei cradles his face and slides another huge palm down Kent’s flank, settling neatly on his hip. Kent wiggles his ass and Alexei takes the hint.

Kent isn’t big for a footy player, but he’s still heavily muscled and not a light guy. Alexei hefts him up with two hands on his ass like he weighs nothing and it’s _really_ hot. Kent’s legs immediately wrap around his waist and Alexei groans low in his throat. He settles Kent on the counter and then his hands are everywhere, long fingers scraping over Kent’s scalp, big palm on his thigh. Kent’s own hands move to trace down the contours of his chest. He can feel the hard peaks of his nipples beneath the thin cotton of his tank top, and he tweaks one roughly. A moan sounds between their mouths.

“Kent,” Alexei breathes, grinding slowly against him like he’s done this _a lot_ of times before. “I do not want the spare room.”

“Yeah, ok,” Kent says, nodding sharply, hands raking down Alexei’s back as the Russian starts in on his neck. “That sounds good, man.”

Alexei growls, which _wow_ , and lifts Kent again, carrying him bodily out of the kitchen, through the half open door into Kent’s room and practically throwing him onto the plush sheets of his bed. Kent watches as he lifts Kitt Purrson ever so carefully and deposits her outside, closing the door on her squashed face.

“This is not how I imagined my day going,” Kent says as Alexei leans over him, stretching his long body in a way that draws the eyes.

“Good or bad?” Alexei punctuates his words with gentle sucks to his collarbone. Kent is going to get so much shit in the locker room for these hickeys. He can’t bring himself to give a single fuck right now.

“Really fucking good,” he moans. “Jesus Christ, you’re so…”

“Hmm?” Alexei looks up at him and Kent finds himself at a loss for words that aren’t really stupid and forward like _beautiful_ and _perfect_.

“Tall?”

Alexei laughs and kisses him hard.

“I hear this a lot,” he smirks. “You are not so tall, but still very…” he tugs Kent’s shirt up and looks down at his abs. “Muscly.”

“Thank you,” this is such an absurd conversation, but Kent doesn’t really want to question it when everything is so warm and hot and good. “You’re plenty muscly too.”

Alexei laughs again and it’s so gorgeous, how he meets Kent’s eyes and looks so honest and open. Kent just about dies.

There’s a little bit of a struggle with their shirts but then suddenly there’s pale skin _everywhere_ and Kent is done being passive. He flips them, nips and sucks and lathes at Alexei’s broad shoulders and defined chest, relishing the way the hair there is coarse against his cheek, the way Alexei is so responsive he can suss out his sweet spots to the millimetre.

“Красивый,” Alexei whines as Kent pays attention to those taught brown nipples again. Kent’s breath stutters. His Russian just about extends to _nyet_ and _da_ so he has no idea what the fuck Alexei is saying, but the word settles low in his gut and makes him feel… something.

“I want you to fuck me,” he pants into Alexei’s navel. “But I don’t know if I can wait.” He grinds down on Alexei’s thick thigh; he’s been hard since Alexei started manhandling him.

“We fuck later,” Alexei says, straightforward. “I am too tired to do what I want now.”

“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” Kent smirks as he goes to pull down Alexei’s fly with his teeth. Alexei actually laughs, and Kent would be offended if it weren’t so free of malice. Also, it’s kind of a tacky move.

He expects Alexei to be pretty hung, the guy is huge and Kent deserves good things, honestly, and he’s not disappointed. Alexei is most of the way to full hardness and Kent’s jaw aches just looking at his cock.

“Scared?”

“Shut up man,” Kent snaps. “Just thinking logistics.”

“Is very flattering,” Alexei lets his head fall back to the pillows when Kent gives an experimental lick all the way along the underside before carefully taking the head into his mouth. He doesn’t love the taste. He’s met people who claim they enjoy it but he’s pretty sure they’re lying. Still, there’s something delicious in the low scent of Alexei and the rough drag of his foreskin against Kent’s tongue. He remains as responsive as ever, which is highly appreciated. Kent doesn’t think he’s been this turned on from just listening to himself turn someone else on in a long time.

Alexei murmurs and yells a lot of English and what Kent assumes is Russian. It’s sort of exciting, the Russian. He could be telling Kent fucking anything, calling him the worst fuck he’s ever had, but Kent just _knows_ , from the intonation and the catch in his breath and something that almost amounts to trust, that that’s not the case.

Kent doesn’t try deep throating for now, content with using his hand in combination with his mouth to bring Alexei off. That’s definitely for later though. He thinks he wouldn’t mind having his face fucked by Alexei, thinks he might enjoy the ache in his jaw and the loss of control. Alexei would be so gentle, after, hands soft and kisses tender.

“Kent,” Alexei warns him and Kent pulls off, finishing him off with his hand and watching as he comes up his stomach. Kent surges up to kiss him while he’s still moaning in the afterglow, loving the slack give of Alexei’s lips and the way his hands shake just a little where they ease over Kent’s back. He feels the moment Alexei comes back to the here and now, when his grip tightens and he rolls them over so fast Kent barely knows what happened before Alexei is back to covering him in red-pink-purple bruises, reaching down to take him in hand.

“Fuck, Alexei,” Kent is often surprisingly quiet in bed, unless whoever he’s with can get him to beg, in which case he will not shut up. But Alexei whispers things in his ear, asks him what he likes, and he can’t stop talking. “Just keep going, a little faster, Jesus Christ you’re amazing I want you inside me so bad.”

Alexei groans low and increases his pace. Kent is gripping his biceps so tight there’ll be bruises tomorrow, pressing his face into Alexei’s neck and breathing in his earthy scent. There’s something so grounding about being here, pinned down to the sheets by this gentle giant. He barely knows him but this is _everything_ right now, nothing exists beyond the lines of their bodies and the reach of their voices.

He comes out of nowhere, squeezing his eyes shut as he groans and Alexei strokes him through it, whispering in Russian.

When he sinks back into the sheets, sweaty and sated, he feels Alexei wipe him clean with a tissue he must have gotten from the bedside table. Alexei kisses him fiercely, but taking his time. Kent can feel how lethargic he is, slow and settled.

“Now we cuddle,” Alexei grins. “I do not want spare room.”

Kent blinks down at him where he settles his head on Kent’s chest and closes his eyes. It’s not that Kent never cuddles, it’s just that usually there’s an awkward process after sex whereby both parties pretend they don’t want to, and eventually it will happen or it won’t. Still, he can’t fault Alexei for his honesty when it got them here. Kent tugs a blanket over them and takes a moment to question how the hell he got here, feeling warm and content with a veritable stranger. Questioning is for later though, when he’ll wake with an ache in his arm where Alexei lays on top of it and a bad taste in his mouth. For now he curls around Alexei and gives only a minute to the doubt lingering at the corners of his mind. They’re there, but they drown in the warmth of Alexei’s hold and the soft sound of his snores. So Kent just lets them go and sleeps.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So the wildlife sanctuary they visit is latrobe wildlife sanctuary... do not ask me why that's where I sent them all my dates are that nerdy ok.  
> The only Russian I was comfortable with using in this translates to 'beautiful' (what a surprise!) I should really do a fic where someone speaks German or something this is silly.


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